


Grab Me Gently

by pippinmctaggart



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No pets were harmed in the filming of this fic, drugged!Billy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-22
Updated: 2004-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy breaks his finger while surfing, and gets high on painkillers. Good thing Dom's there to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to [](http://1420.livejournal.com/profile)[**1420**](http://elmathelas.livejournal.com/) and [](http://vanaofthevalar.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://vanaofthevalar.livejournal.com/)**vanaofthevalar** for the enormous help in beta-ing (and dealing with pronouns). It wouldn't be the same without them.

 

It was a big wave. An incredible wave, as a matter of fact. Billy had been paddling for ages, patiently riding his board full-length, watching for the lull. That lull in the breakers, in the bubble lines that told him when to paddle full out. He was getting better at reading them. He'd seen it, finally, started stroking beneath the board with both arms in unison, pulling out to sea. Got to the spot he thought it would start, flipped himself around to face the shore. He watched the water in front of him, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. ("Never look behind you," he'd been taught. "If you start looking behind you, your mind is facing the wrong way. Focus forward.") He focused. Sawheardfelt the wave approaching. Paddled faster, pulled _with_ the water this time. The board rose, and so did he. Lightly to his feet, balancing, feeling the shift, feeling the strength, absorbing the power. God, there was nothing better than that feeling of flying with the might of the Pacific at your back. He looked further ahead, gauging where the wave would peter out, whether he could ride this nearly to shore. Nearly to Dom? Fuck, that'd be perfect. Show him what he missed by giving up so easily. What was Dom doing, anyway?

Dom stood at the shoreline in the wet sand, arms spread wide. He could see the passion, the intensity, the thrill on Billy's face. Wanted to show him, even from this distance, that he _got_ it.

Billy glanced from the cresting water back up to Dom. What the fu-- As Dom started triumphantly thrusting his hips, shouting something unintelligible over the roar of the water in Billy's ears (blood in his veins), Billy lost focus. Or rather, started focusing on something different. Not new, but different. And when the board tilted, Billy was no longer one with it, and was firmly tipped off. Into the wipeout he'd been expecting for some time, back in the furthest reaches of his pessimistic brain. In one of those slow-motion moments that he had been sure only happened in the movies (Aragorn moments, he now called them), as he tumbled arse over teakettle over the crest he had time to think, "Oh well--at least I can blame Dom for this."

Dom watched Billy cartwheel over the breaking wave with a spectacular, awe-inspiring lack of grace and co-ordination. Watched him collide with the surfboard. Gasped so sharply it hurt. Didn't realize he'd started running until salt water splashed up by his knees hit him in the face. Slogged on as fast as he could.

Billy was rolled over a few times before managing to determine which way was up. Watched the bubbles. He'd had enough wipeouts to know that staying relaxed was the key. He was conscious, that was the main thing. He followed the leash, tethered to the board already bobbing on the surface. He broke through the waves, took a deep gasping breath, groped blindly for the board. The fingers of one hand found it, gripped it tightly as he caught his breath.

Dom stopped swimming when he saw Billy's head break the surface. Oh, thank God. Floated where he was, treading water, waiting to see if he was needed. Billy saw him, waved him off, gave him a half-assed grin for reassurance, so Dom turned and swam back to shore.

Dom was pacing knee-deep in the ocean, waiting to take the board for him when Billy finally floated in.

"Bill--you all right, man? That was the biggest fucking wipeout I've ever seen!"

Billy slowly rose to his feet, leaned over, and cradled one hand with his other arm. "I am not _entirely_ all right, no," he ground out, pain sparkflashing up his arm.

"Why? What's wrong?" Instantly the board was dropped and Dom returned to his side, a hand on his back.

"My hand. I think something's broken."

"Shit. C'mon." Led him up the sand.

"Get my board, you fucker," Billy snapped. Disliked himself for doing that, but couldn't seem to help it. It wasn't like it was a life-threatening injury, but that the moment his nerve-endings were complaining loudly. Fiercely.

Wordlessly Dom jogged back, picked up the board, and followed to the car. Once he had both board and Billy installed, Dom climbed in. "Hospital?"  
  
"I suppose." He bit back a grimace as the car bounced and rattled back to the road. "Take it easy, would you?"

Dom glanced over. "Sorry."

"You should be. Pete's going to kill you."

"Kill _me_?" he protested. "What the fuck did I do?"

"It's your fault I fell," Billy said, sounding a little more like himself.

"How do you figure that, then?"

"Your little--dance. You know, the one you must have learned at a strip club." One corner of his mouth lifted.

Dom flushed. "I was just--oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand," he muttered, heading the car back toward the city.

"Try me."

"No."

"Yes. You owe me. I'm in pain, thanks to your pelvis."

Dom looked over at the hand gingerly held in the still-wet lap. "Is it your pinkie?"

"I think so."

"It looks crooked."

"That would explain why it bloody well hurts, then, wouldn't it? What were you doing?"

Dom groaned, and Billy actually gave a little grin. God bless Mother Nature and her painkilling endorphins.

"Come on, Dom, you know I won't give up."

Dom knew it all too well. Billy never gave up at anything, dammit. "It's one of those things that…as soon as I explain it, sounds really fucking stupid. It only makes sense to me."

"Try me," Billy repeated.

"You mock me for this, I'll break the other four," he warned.

"Deal. Just give me the gist of it."

"It was just--you. The look on your face."

"Turned you on, did it?"

"You could at least let me finish," Dom growled, his ears turning red.

Billy wondered why. "Sorry. Thought that was it. Carry on."

"It was a great wave, and you caught it perfectly. And you looked…alive. Fucking _alive_. The only word I can think of is 'lusty'. But that's not quite right either." Dom took his words seriously.

"Hence the hips?"

"Hence the hips. It just--felt right. _Life_. I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?" he predicted bitterly.

"Yes, you will. But not 'til later." Billy was silent for a minute, then added, "And I do understand, actually. Because you're not far off how it felt. But your thrusting was a little…distracting."

Dom wasn't sure how to take that, so he didn't.

 

 

They spent almost an hour in Emergency at the hospital, and Dom nearly drove Billy mad with his incessant attempts to be helpful.

"Dom, for the last time, I do not need a magazine, a pillow, or a glass of water. Now sit down and relax before I beat you to death with my good hand."

Dom sat. "Sorry." Twitched.

Billy shifted uncomfortably. "God, I hate sitting around in my wetsuit while it dries." He sighed. "It wasn't your fault, all right? I lost my concentration, and I fell. Simple as that. Now cut it out."

"Sorry."

"If this is you dealing with a broken finger, I'd hate to see you faced with a _real_ crisis."

Dom finally grinned. "Sorry."

Billy groaned, shook his head. "Relax, yeah?"

"I'll try."

"What's got your knickers in a twist, anyway? Surely all this fidgeting isn't on behalf of my pinkie."

Dom opened his mouth. Closed it again. Finally said, "Well, sure it is. Must be. It's the only thing that's happened today, innit? You gave me a fright."

A nurse approached. "William Boyd?"

Billy stood. Turned back to Dom and with a wicked glint in his eye leaned down to whisper, "Except for me turning you on." He straightened and turned away to follow the nurse, leaving a red-faced Dom staring daggers at his back.

 

 

Billy returned some time later with a pinched look around his mouth and slightly glassy eyes.

Dom stood as he approached. Uncertainly said, "What did they do to you?"

"Had to re-set it. Fuck. Demerol. Demerol and I aren't friends. Or maybe we are. Depends how you look at it. I can't feel my finger anymore, that's good. Then again, I can't feel my arse, either."

A nurse had followed him over in time to hear the last statement. She directed Billy to a chair behind them, smiled at Dom. "Your friend has had a reaction to the Demerol. Is there anyone who can stay with him tonight?"

Dom frowned. "Why? Is there a problem--?"

She rushed to reassure him. "No, no. It's just that some patients react a little oddly. He could be uncoordinated, have visual disturbances, possibly even mild hallucinations. It's uncommon, but not unheard of, and as long as he's supervised, it's not dangerous. I've heard stories of aluminum in the microwave and pets almost in the washing machine."

Dom's face cleared. "Oh. Yeah, I can stay with him."

The nurse smiled at him. "He'll keep you on your toes, anyway." She handed him a tiny vial of pills. "He can have two in four hours, and two more three to four hours after that. There's enough for tomorrow if he needs it, but he should try just one at a time by then. Otherwise he can have acetaminophen. We went over the situation with the splint, but I'll let you know in case he forgets. Do you work with him?"

"Er--yes."

"He explained the difficulties involved. We taped the pinkie to the third finger with clear tape. It should be relatively unnoticeable, except from very near. But when he's not filming, he has to wear that splint. At all times." She indicated the metal and foam currently surrounding Billy's pinkie. "Even with the tape, the finger can move too much. The more he wears the splint, the faster and better it will heal."

Dom nodded. "Okay."

The nurse smiled. "And that's it. It was a nasty little break, and the reset was a rough one, but in a couple weeks he'll be right as rain."

"Great. Thanks very much for your help."

"You're welcome. Now I think I'll have to see this film when it comes out." She said goodbye to Billy, who was still in the chair, staring at a picture on the opposite wall, and walked back to the desk.

"Dom. It's green," Billy whispered. Or he obviously _thought_ he was whispering.

"What is?"

"That picture."

Dom turned to look. "No, Billy, it's black and white."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Oh. Okay. Good. That's all right, then."

Dom grinned. "This is going to be _fun_."

 

 

Dom finally got Billy bundled back into the car. It took some time because Billy kept stopping to peer closely at things and comment at some length on their colour, shape, texture, or--in one unfortunate incident--taste.

"Seatbelt, Billy," Dom instructed as he did up his own. Rolled the window down. "Your car really pongs, you know that? Time to get it cleaned."

"I don't smell anything."

"Not _now_ you don't, but that's because your nose is higher than a kite."

"No, it's not. 'S on my face."

Dom ignored that. "I'm gonna stop on the way and pick up a video to watch tonight. You want to get dinner, too?"

"No, I'll cook."

"Oh no, you won't."

"Why not? I make an excellent stir."

"Stir?"

"Fry," he added.

"My point exactly. You might make an excellent stir-fry, but tonight you'd just burn the bleeding flat down. How does pizza grab you?"

"Gently," Billy said distractedly, craning his head to look at something they had passed.

"Gently?"

"Grab me gently. That was a blue dog."

"No, it wasn't." He looked in the rear-view mirror, trying to will away the thought of grabbing Billy. _Mates_. "It was a laundry sack. It _was_ blue, though."

"Good. I hate it when people dye their pets."

"If you say so, Bills."

 

 

At the video store, Dom briefly considered leaving Billy in the car, but quickly came to the realization that would be very, very naïve. Bordering on stupid. He hauled him out of the car, dragged him inside. Let him wander while he looked for a particular film. Found it with a snort of glee. Bounded over to where Billy stood with four DVD's in his left hand. He absently picked up another.

"Hey Bill--want to try an experiment?"

"Sure."

Dom waited, but nothing else followed. "Don't you want to know what?" he demanded.

"Should I?" He picked up another case.

"Never mind. Just how many movies are you planning on watching tonight?"

"Just this one," he held up the six DVD's.

"Right. Want to play a game?"

Billy's face brightened. "Okay. Tig?"

"No, not Tig."

"Elijah isn't here anyway."

Dom sighed. "Billy, focus for a second, will ya?"

"On what?"

He took the DVD cases from Billy's hand, held them behind his back in his left hand. He still held the film he'd chosen in his right. "Pick a hand. Whichever hand you pick, that's the movie we'll watch, okay?"

"Oh. Okay." Billy walked away.

"Oh, for fuck's--Billy!" Dom followed him. "Pick a hand!"

"Left. My right has this bloody great splint on it."

"Not _your_ \--never mind. Oh, look." He held up his right hand with the single DVD. "What do you know, you chose the same one I did." He held up Walt Disney's _Fantasia_. "I think you'll really like this in your current condition." Dom left the other six on the counter. Started to check out. Had to grab Billy's arm and hold on when he tried to wander out.

Back in the car once again, Dom discarded the idea of stopping to pick up dinner. They'd damn well order in.

"Dom?" Billy asked, looking out his window.

"Yeah?"

"We're moving, right?"

Dom looked at him sideways. "Of course we are. Why?"

"Just checking. Dom?"

"Yeah?"

"New Zealand, right?"

"You are so looped out it's not funny, dude."

Billy giggled.

"What?" Dom asked a little warily.

"You said 'dude'."

"Yeah, so?"

"It's funny. _Dood_."

"Billy?"

"Yeah?" He leaned forward to look up at the sky through the windshield.

"Can I drink all your whiskey, watch some porn, and wank off on your couch tonight?"

"Of course."

"Yeah. Looped." Dom grinned.

 

 

Back at the apartment, Dom realized they had a minor problem. They were both still wearing their wetsuits.

"Can I borrow some clothes, Billy?"

Billy was staring at a picture of the two of them that was tacked on his fridge. "Yeah. This is you."

Dom came over to look. "And you."

"We look happy."

"We are happy. We're two very happy blokes."

"I'm not."

"You're by far the happiest person in this room, Billy."

" _Demerol_ ," Billy said, as if pointing out how incredibly thick Dom was for not noticing.

"I know it's the Demerol, Bill. Just…enjoy it."

"You mean that?"

Dom frowned. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Just checking."

Dom shook his head. "Okay, Bill. I'm just gonna go change. I'll be back."

He rummaged through the drawers in Billy's room. Found some boxers and a t-shirt. Stripped off the no-longer-wet wetsuit (which wasn't particularly easy with two good hands--what the fuck was he going to do about Billy?) and discovered sand stuck in places he really hated having sand. "Bollocks," he muttered. Sprinted down the hall to the bathroom, clothes held low just in case. Didn't want Billy looking. Or touching, or tasting--oh God. Where the hell did _that_ come from? Dom slammed the bathroom door shut. Fuck fuck fuck. Just shower. Cold water. _Mates_ , dammit.

Cleaned, dried, and dressed in shorts and tee, Dom returned to the kitchen only to find Billy pulling out virtually every pot and pan the kitchen held. "What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.

"Cooking. 'M hungry."

"No, no, no. Pizza, remember? I'll order it." He moved Billy away from the cupboards. "I'll help you get your sleeve off over your hand, and then you go get changed."

Billy unzipped to his waist, and held out his right hand to Dom. "Careful," he said timidly.

"I will be." Dom gently, gingerly removed the splint. Took the wristband of the wetsuit in his fingers, and began trying to ease the tough material along. With a minimum of jerks and tugs, he pulled it off until the sleeve was loose enough for Billy to wriggle out of. His mouth had that pinched look again, but he didn't complain. "All right, Bills?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He tried to walk away, but Dom caught his elbow.

"Hang on, we have to put this back on." Dom replaced the splint, taping it up tightly.

"Ow. Cut it out."

"I'm done. Now go change. And if your wetsuit's like mine, you'll need a shower."

"Yeah. Sand up my arse."

"I thought you couldn't feel your arse?" Dom grinned.

"Nope. Can't. But I can feel sand."

Billy wandered out toward his bedroom. Dom prayed Billy could manage the rest of the suit on his own. He didn't know where the hell these thoughts were coming from lately, but they really didn't need that kind of encouragement. He just needed a good shag, that was all. With someone who _wasn't_ his best mate.

Dom had just hung up after ordering the pizza when a resounding crash came from Billy's bedroom. "Shit!" He hurried in to find Billy's bedside table toppled over and Billy himself on the floor, his wetsuit tangled around his knees. And otherwise naked.

Locking his eyes on Billy's feet, Dom knelt beside him. "You all right, Billy?"

"I think--I think. No. Ow."

"Need a hand with the suit?"

"Yes. Ow. Fuck." He closed his eyes tightly.

Dom started yanking at the ankles of Billy's wetsuit. "Did you hit your hand?"

"Yes. Fuck. Ow."

"I guess that means more Demerol tonight, huh?"

"Now."

"You can't now, it's too soon. After you eat." Dom freed one foot from the neoprene. He glanced up, meaning to look Billy in the face. Didn't get that far. His eyes locked on Billy's cock--half-erect and growing stiffer as he watched. He swallowed painfully, wrenched his eyes away, wished he'd put on jeans instead of these flimsy boxers.

Billy was now looking at himself too. "Wow. Not bad for someone who's doped up."

"Billy--" Dom stopped, not sure exactly what he had intended to follow that.

"I mean, look at it," Billy continued wonderingly. "I wish I was a dog. 'Cos you know dogs can--"

Abruptly Dom stood, lifting Billy's ankle and forcing him on his back again. He roughly pulled the last leg of the wetsuit until it came off. "Go shower." Started to walk away.

"Dom?"

He stopped. "What?"

"Help me up?"

Dom clenched his jaw, tried to get a hold of himself. Fucking _mates_. Oh God. Re-phrase, quick. He returned to Billy, stared at his nose, and held out a hand.

Billy took it with his left, and awkwardly, slowly got to his feet. "Help me with the shower?"

"No." Dom shook his head quickly. "You're on your own in there."

"What if I drown?"

"Stay on your feet, you git."

"Oh. Yeah, that might work. I hope I can wank okay. I don't want to look like you."

Dom made a choking noise. "What?"

Billy gestured to Dom's crotch. "That hard-on. You might want to do something about that, or it's going to be a long night," he said helpfully. Ambled out of the bedroom, leaving Dom frozen in place.

"Fuckshitfuckdamn."

 

 

Dom used Billy's time in the shower to try and quell his rising and unacceptable lust. He didn't want to examine it too closely, but this had to stop. He and Billy were friends, would only _ever_ be friends, and that's all there was to it. Billy liked to tease him, yes, but then they both teased Elijah something fierce. Thanks to the Demerol, Billy seemed to have no inhibitions whatsoever, so Dom would just have to have enough for both of them. He did some yoga breathing, eyes closed, focused inward.

Slowly, gradually, Dom noticed the apartment had grown silent. With a sense of foreboding he opened his eyes.

And looked directly into Billy's green ones, inches away.

"Fuck!" he jumped.

Billy sat cross-legged in front of him, leaning in, still damp from his shower and still naked. "Whatcha doing, Dom?"

"Billy! Go put some fucking clothes on!"

"Why?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, I don't know--maybe because I'm sitting right here??"

"I know. I need your help."

"Pull your damn pants up with your _other_ hand."

"Not that."

Dom's stomach lurched. He had a bad feeling about this--

"I need you to get me off."

Dom closed his eyes. Groaned, "Tell me you didn't just ask me to give you a blowjob."

"A handjob would be fine, if you'd rather," he said politely.

Dom lurched to his feet. "No more Demerol for you. _Ever_."

"But Dom," he wheedled, "I've got a hard-on. And I can't do anything about it, the splint gets in the way."

"Use your left hand," Dom ground out.

"I tried. Can't. I'm not ambiguous." Billy shook his head sadly.

"Ambig--you mean ambidextrous?"

"'S what I said. It's all your fault, so I think you should help."

"You said it _wasn't_ my fault you fell," he protested.

"It wasn't. It's your fault I'm hard, you idiot."

Dom took a deep breath. Concentrated on letting his boxers lay flat again. "Billy, we are not going to have this conversation. Go get dressed. _Now_."

"Why won't you help me?"

"Because I'm not your lover! I'm your mate. And mates don't wank each other off."

"That was _your_ choice."

Dom froze. "What was?"

"To be--not get--the lover part. That bit."

"What do you mean 'my choice'?" Dom's head was whirling. Why did he ever think Billy on Demerol would be fun?

"I offered. You didn't accept."

"When the hell was that??" Dom nearly squealed in his agitation. "You never fucking offered!"

"You're so sad, Dom. I've been offering for months."

Dom sat weakly on the sofa. "Why do I feel like I'm the one on drugs?"

"Want some?"

"No, Billy, I don't. Can you please go put some clothes on? I need to--I can't… I need process time, okay? Besides, the pizza guy will be here any minute," he added desperately.

"Can I ask _him_ to help me?"

"No!" Dom thundered. "Go!" Added, "And bring me a pair of jeans!"

 

 

After the delivery boy had come and gone (unmolested by Billy), they sat in front of the TV to eat. Billy was still making odd remarks--such as how the news anchor's hair looked like spider legs--but not as often. Dom prayed the effects of the Demerol were wearing off.

"Dom?" Billy suddenly asked.

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember if I have any biscuits?"

"I think so. Top shelf by the fridge."

Billy got up, shuffled to the kitchen. A minute later there was muffled talking, thumping.

"Bill? What are you doing?"

"Biscuits," came the answer. "Chair."

"Oh. Okay." Then it sunk in. Chair. Fuck. "No, Bill, don't--" he called ahead as he hurried in. Arrived just in time to be landed on by a tumbling Billy. They hit the floor, Dom on the bottom. Billy's metal splint made a _tinging_ noise as it hit the cupboard door handle beside them. They both froze, waiting for the reaction.

"Bill?" Dom finally said.

"Yeah? Oh--oh, wait, no, here it comes. Yep, that hurt. Ow. Ow. Ow! Fuck! Bloody fucking _hell_!" The volume increased with each word as his senses sluggishly passed the pain message along.

"Shit, Bill--" Dom scrambled out from beneath him. Helped him sit up.

Billy's eyes stung with tears. "Fuck fuck fuck. It hurts, Dom."

"I know," he said soothingly. "It'll go away. Come on, take it easy, it's just your pinkie. Try and ignore it."

" _Just_ my pinkie? One fucking word, Monaghan-- _splinter_."

"Okay, okay," he said, hands up in surrender. "Do you want some ice?"

"Yeah. And Demerol."

"Okay."

"Demerol. Fuck. Now."

"Okay, hold on, I'm just getting your ice. Sit at the table."

As Dom got the ice cube trays from the freezer, Billy slowly hauled himself to his feet. Leaving the overturned chair where it was, he sat in another one. Dom handed him a towel full of ice cubes. "Put that on it. I'll go get your pills."

He returned a moment later, put two on the table, and poured him a glass of water. Watched as Billy quickly swallowed them. "You keep pulling stunts like that, it's never going to heal," he warned.

"I just wanted a biscuit. How was I to know the chair would tip?" he asked plaintively.

Dom wryly said, "I suspect it wasn't the chair. Look, if you need anything, just ask. Why the hell do you think I'm here?"

"Anything?"

"Yes, anyth--" Dom saw the trap just in time. " _Almost_ anything. Anything that could result in you getting hurt. Look, just bring your ice, sit on the couch, and we'll watch the film, yeah?"

"Okay." Billy went into the other room.

Dom picked up the chair, placed it meticulously back at the table. Ran his hands through his hair. Then followed Billy.


	2. Chapter 2

 

The movie hadn't been on very long before the Demerol obviously began to kick in. First, the ice was discarded on the coffee table. Then Billy began to slouch deep into the sofa. Finally he began inserting random comments--like, "lead pencils aren't really made of lead, you know"--into the movie. Dom was sure there was probably a connection, but it was so tenuous he couldn't find it. Felt like he needed to take the edge off his sanity in order to spend any more time with him, and quickly downed a few whiskeys to make it more interesting. Was still in control, could still watch out for Bill--but found him slightly more amusing. Left a full glass on the coffee table to nurse for the rest of the evening. After a quick trip to the loo, he didn't notice his glass was no longer on the table.

Didn't notice, that is, until Billy spilled a bit when he suddenly sat bolt upright and began shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Dom! Oh my God, Dom, lookit the fuckin' mushrooms!" It was the Nutcracker Suite portion of the movie, always one of Dom's favourites. But it seemed to upset Billy.

Dom grabbed the glass, took it from him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? You can't drink!"

"Dom! The mushrooms! The fucking mushrooms!" Billy continued bellowing.

"Yeah, what about them?" he asked with a growing smile.

"They're fucking dancing, Dom! They can't do that!" He flopped back, covering his eyes with his left arm.

Dom started to laugh.

"It's not funny!" Billy wailed. "They can't do that!"

He tried to stifle his chuckles. "Why not, Bill?"

"Because they can't! They're Chinese! Fucking _Chinese_ , Dom!"

Dom giggled, bit his lip. "You want me to fast-forward the mushrooms, Bill?"

"Just get rid of them!"

Dom hit the skip button on the remote. Sorcerer's Apprentice? Better let him calm down a bit, first. Kept skipping. Ah, the lovely Pastoral Symphony. A little cloying, but it should make Billy happy. He let it play. "Okay, Bill, they're gone."

Billy peeked out between his fingers. Dropped his hand. A smile slowly grew on his face. He giggled.

Dom grinned. "Better?"

"Lookit. They're cute. Who's the fat guy?"

"I think that's Bacchus."

"I want wine too. Wine, women and song. Only no women. Wine and song."

"You can have the song," Dom offered.

"Want wine."

"No. Not with drugs."

"You're no fun."

"Too bad."

"Let's have some fun, Dom." Billy dropped sideways to lay on the sofa, his head on Dom's thigh (safely down by his knee, so Dom let him stay), looked up beseechingly.

"We _are_ having fun," he said firmly.

"Boring fun. I want fun fun. Let's go dancing!"

Dom grinned. "I don't think that would be wise."

"Please?"

"No. Quit your whingeing. How about Mickey Mouse?"

"Oh. Okay," he said cheerfully, leaving his head on Dom's knee as he turned back to the TV.

Dom struggled not to start laughing again, settling instead for quickly scrubbing a hand through his hair. Had to bite his lip as Billy literally _ooh_ 'd and _ahh_ 'd over Mickey's pyrotechnics. Dom grew wrapped up in the story and music, and especially the actual drama. The mouse was fucking _acting_ , man. Incredible. As a result he didn't notice until too late that Billy had gone silent. Didn't notice until the trembling started.

"Billy? What is it?" he asked quietly.

Billy didn't answer, just lay there shaking, his left hand making little shooing motions.

"Billy?" Dom put a hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze.

"Aaaaiiieee!" Billy shrieked, thrashed, fell onto the floor.

"The _fuck_ \--" Dom leaned forward to look down at him. "What the hell is wrong?"

Billy didn't look up. Lay there staring at the floor. "They were--and then--everywhere!" he stammered, shaken.

"What were, Billy?" Dom asked gently. God, he seemed truly frightened.

"The--the broomsticks. Fucking everywhere, Dom!"

"It's just a movie, Billy, it's okay."

"I know it's just a movie," he snapped. "But they--first--and then--"

"Come on back up, Bills. Come up here with me."

Billy literally crawled up on to the sofa, and curled up tightly beside Dom, laying his head on Dom's lap once again.

Dom stroked Billy's hair with one hand, rubbed up and down his arm with the other. "You really shouldn't have touched that whiskey, I think it's fucked you right up. What did you see?"

"They started multiplying. On--on the telly. You saw, right?"

"Yes," Dom agreed. "They were multiplying."

"They--they _menaced_. Evil brooms, Dom. And then--then--then they weren't on the telly. They were in here, in the room. Filling up the room. Coming towards me, Dom. And one of them grabbed me!"

"No, that was me. I'm sorry I frightened you, but it was me."

"Oh. But--oh. Really?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, Billy, this is my fault. This movie really wasn't a good idea."

"I don't want to watch it anymore, okay Dom?"

"Okay, Billy. I'm turning it off. Just a suggestion, while I think of it--don't ever, _ever_ try acid, okay? You wouldn't survive."

 

 

They watched TV instead. Just some action flick with fast cars and pretty girls and lots of innuendo. Dom absently kept stroking Billy's hair, trying to keep him calm while the whiskey wore off. It would take longer for the Demerol, of course.

Billy slowly relaxed, the tension in his body easing bit by bit. Talked a little, but eventually even that, too, stopped, until Dom was fairly sure he'd fallen asleep. A little later Billy rolled over, and yes, his eyes were closed as he tucked his face up against the pocket of Dom's (Billy's) jeans.

Dom breathed slowly, evenly, and refused those thoughts entry. Steadfastly returned his attention to the television.

A car chase, a lot of pseudo-threatening dialogue, and a drawn-out sex scene later, Dom gradually became aware of a growing heat in his groin. He shifted, but it didn't lessen. Odd, that, because the actress in this movie really wasn't his cup of tea, never mind the actor, and sure, it was a sex scene, but it honestly wasn't all that hot, and--His thoughts froze in mid-stream when he felt a gentle tugging at his waistband. He looked down.

Billy's mouth was open, directly over the area of Dom's cock, a fraction of an inch away from the denim. He was breathing deeply, hotly, the warmth seeping through and enveloping Dom, making him hard. His eyes were still closed, but the fingers of his left hand were delicately feeling at the button, then popping it open.

"Billy, stop," Dom said in a low voice. The hand that wasn't in Billy's hair clenched tight at his side.

Billy didn't answer. Continued blowing hot, and now humidity started to seep through the thick fabric too. He pulled the zipper down.

Dom swallowed involuntarily. Rather than decreasing the heat, having his pants open only served to intensify it, as Billy's slow breath now didn't have to weave its way through the denim. "Billy, I mean it, cut it out," he rasped. The fingers still threaded in his spiky hair tried to push his head away.

Billy simply gripped the gaping waistband tightly. The further away Dom pushed his head, the further down his pants were pulled. And every time he backed off, Billy put his mouth right back where it started, making Dom's cock throb without ever touching it.

"Billy--no."

"Yes," he murmured between breaths.

"No, I can't--not…"

"No? Why not?"

Dom shifted, trying to move himself away from Billy, who still clenched his pants in one hand. "Because--'cos--it's not right…" he stammered desperately. He hoped Billy would back off, because at this point he wasn't gong to be able to move far. His knees were water.

"Oh, it's right, Dom," Billy said. "You're the only one who hasn't seen it yet."

"What the hell does that mean? And leave my pants alone," Dom said quickly.

"Everyone knows how I feel about you but you. _My_ pants, do what I want with 'em. I've been waiting for you to realize you want me too. Stupid pillock."

"No--you're just--high. Fucking drugged up."

"Am I?" He paused. Snickered. "Guess I am. Which just means I'm finally doing something about it. Not before time." He suddenly grabbed the waistband of Dom's boxers and yanked them down, freeing Dom's erection.

"Billy, I can't take advantage--" he nearly swallowed his tongue as two hot, moist lips took in the head of his cock.

Billy briefly sucked hard, making Dom's hips buck of their own volition. He opened his mouth, releasing him, and smiling, said, "Then I will."

"No--" he whispered, resolve crumbling.

"Oh, yes." Billy's eyes tilted up to Dom's. The green burned, even through his eyelashes. Keeping his eyes locked on Dom's, he slowly licked up the full length, from balls to tip. Then licked his lips.

Dom moaned. He was hopelessly, helplessly lost.

Billy rose to his knees, sank his head down. Took Dom's stiff erection fully, deeply into his throat.

"Oh God…" Dom shuddered.

Billy pulled his mouth away. "Ow. Ow." He sat back, lifted his right hand up from where he had been partially leaning on it. Looked at it. "Ow."

"Billy--" Dom looked at him with glazed eyes. "You okay?"

"Ow. Yeah. Forgot." Put his hand ridiculously high in the air, awkwardly shuffled off the sofa, nearly falling over the edge. Dom grabbed his elbow to steady him.

"Billy--"

"Hold your horses, I'm coming."

It startled a snort of laughter from Dom. "No--this really isn't the best idea. Why don't we--"

"Why don't you shut your trap?" Billy maneuvered himself around until he was kneeling on the floor between Dom's thighs. Propped himself up with his arms over Dom's knees, carefully keeping his right hand out to the side. Used the very end of his pointy tongue to drive all thoughts of noble protest out of Dom's mind.

"Ohh…I--oh God, Billy--" His head fell back against the sofa.

Billy lifted his eyes. "Can you tell me you don't want me?"

Dom couldn't.

Billy continued to swirl his tongue around Dom's cock. "Can you tell me you don't want _this_?"

No.

Billy flicked his tongue down to tease Dom's balls. Dom's breath shivered in and out, his hand shot out to grip Billy's bicep. "Can you tell me this isn't right?"

_Godnosoright_.

Billy licked the vein standing rigidly out on the side of Dom's hard, twitching erection. "You taste like walnuts. No, pistachios." Sucked on the head. "Both. Waltachios. You taste _waltachio_."

Dom wanted to tell him to shut up. Wanted to tell him to have one really good long hard cheek-hollowing taste, then. _Now_. He even tried to get the words out. "Bill--" But the second the name started to pass his lips, Billy once again went down on him, that small hot wet tight mouth drawing the very skin back from his bones, setting his hips thrusting and jerking, nothing but bone and air and heat.

Billy lifted his mouth. "Want to tell me to shut up?"

_Nononono, wouldn't dream of it. Don't stop, don't stop--_

"Don't stop," he said raggedly, both hands now clutching at Billy.

"I won't stop," Billy promised. "But I'm going to make you beg."

"Oh God--Billy, please--"

He sat back on his haunches, frowning a little. "Not _yet_ , you daft bugger. Fuck, can't you let me have at least a _little_ fun tonight?"

Dom couldn't help but laugh, if breathlessly. "Get on with it then. And--don't take too long, yeah?"

Billy grinned wickedly, eyes glittering. Leaned back over Dom, who closed his eyes in anticipation. "No--open them. Watch."

Dom took a deep breath, opened his eyes. Watched Billy's mouth as it descended over his throbbing cock. Watched as Billy scraped gently with his teeth and his hips arched up sharply, like they belonged to someone else. Watched as Billy slid his mouth up, lowered it down. Heard low growling noises. Realized he was making them.

Billy released him again. Crouched down to kiss, caress, lick the inside creases of Dom's thighs, making him tremble. He murmured, "Going to fall apart for me."

"Billy--"

"Going to come so hard you'll think I've turned your cock inside out."

"Oh God--"

He licked the length of Dom's erection once again, ending with a swirl around the tip. "Tell me you want me."

"Fuck yes. Want--need--"

"How long, Dom? How long have you been looking at me like that? Itching to touch me, to make me hard, make me come?" Billy spoke in a low, rough voice, his left hand gripping Dom's cock tightly and giving a swift pull.

Dom thrust and bucked into Billy's hand, moaning, the pressure mounting, craving release like a junkie.

Billy let him go. Blew air gently over his twitching, aching, engorged cock. "How long?"

"Weeks," Dom managed, long fingers grasping Billy's arms in desperation.

"Just weeks?"

"No. Months. Billy, for Chrissake--"

Billy sucked him once, hard, then wetly licked him around and around.

Dom whined.

Billy nearly came in his pants, the sound was so hot, so needy. _He just fucking whined_. He pressed his own erection against the edge of the sofa, hard. "Need something, Dom?"

"Need…"

"Tell me."

"You. Need your tongue," Dom forced the words out as Billy obliged, continued to draw him tauter and tighter. An elastic about to snap. "Please, Billy--give me your mouth. Fuck. _Please_ ," he begged.

Billy took him in his mouth, moaned, the vibration traveling down Dom's cock and straight to the pit of his belly, fracturing his tenuous control.

"Please Billy, pleasepleasepleaseohfuckplease--" and he shattered, fell apart, tripping tumbling stumbling over the precipice, driving himself into Billy's mouth.

Billy sucked, swallowed, forgot to breathe, had never been so aroused in his life. Kept working Dom with his tongue as he shuddered, jerked, bucked, groaned, gasped, arched as far into Billy's throat as he could. Billy watched him, saw the line of his throat, the way his head was thrown back, saw the sheen of sweat on his skin, the way one hand went up behind his head and stiff fingers dug into the sofa, finally gripping and pulling at the cushion. The way he ever so slowly subsided, relaxing almost muscle by muscle. Except when short, sharp aftershocks made him shake.

Billy gently twirled his tongue around once more, enjoying the noise, the twitch it produced from Dom. He slowly released him, straightened his back. Looked at Dom, who gradually opened his eyes.

"Fuck," Dom breathed with the ghost of a smile.

Billy smirked.

Dom suddenly lunged forward, kissed Billy hard. Held his head between his long strong hands. Forced open Billy's mouth with his tongue and took possession like he was never moving out. Tasted sweatsalt and himself, something that would now forever be defined as _waltachio_.

Billy moaned into his mouth. Trembled. Somehow, his Demerol-limited thought processes had completely forgotten about the possibilities inherent in kissing. He was confused, taken by surprise, felt distinctly overstimulated. Loved it. Felt a bubble in his stomach and his breath hitched. His hands crept up to either side of Dom's neck.

Dom pulled his mouth away, went to Billy's ear. "Watch your hand," he warned softly, then bit his earlobe.

"Ahhh…" Billy's eyes flickered closed. "Dom--"

"Billy. Thank you." He kissed Billy's neck, just below the corner of his jaw.

"Welcome. Why?"

"I wanted this for so long. But I was too afraid," he admitted.

"I tried. Too subtle. Needed Demerol, roll over you like a tank."

Dom laughed, his breath warm and soft against Billy's skin. "You did, at that."

"Dom?" Billy's voice was ragged.

"Yes?"

"Will you please, for fuck's sake, help me _now_? Or do I have to call the pizza boy?"

Dom chuckled. "Yes, I'll help you." He kissed Billy again, hard, teeth clicking teeth. Billy groaned, grasped at Dom with his good hand. Dom shoved his almost obscenely long tongue into Billy's mouth, swept through him, leaving him gasping, without words.

Dom tucked himself back inside his boxers, but leaving his jeans undone and half-down, pressed his crotch tightly against Billy's. Slowly, sensually, he slid down Billy's groin and legs until he sat on the floor.

"Fuck, Dom--want you," Billy gasped, eyes closed, head back.

"Turn around. Sit," Dom ordered.

Billy backed away on his knees so he could safely follow the instructions without kicking Dom. Sat heavily on his arse, asked, "What?"

Dom rolled his eyes. "My arms aren't that long. Sit over _here_." He waited while Billy shuffled to sit directly in front of him, still facing away. Dom grabbed the tabs on his jeans and hauled him back until he was virtually in his lap, his back pressed tightly against Dom's chest. The hard swift pulling on his jeans made Billy groan.

"Hurry up, Dom."

Dom grinned, kissed the back of Billy's neck, said, "But I want to make you beg."

"Bastard," Billy snorted breathily, then roughly said, "I'm not going to last. Hurry. Bloody hell, what did they give me, Viagra?"

Dom reached around, clamped Billy in his arms as his hands made quick work of the button and zipper. Frantically Billy shifted so the jeans and boxers could be pushed down out of the way. Went to grab at Dom's thighs on either side of him, but Dom caught his right wrist before he could. "Watch your hand." He lifted Billy's arm up and behind, wrapping it around his own neck, the hand safely out of harm's way.

"Oh God, Dom, please--" Billy writhed.

Dom slid his left hand up under Billy's shirt, palm splayed across his chest. Let his fingertips find a nipple, simultaneously taking Billy's cock in his right hand.

Billy arched into his fingers, growling something unintelligible. Leaned back hard into Dom's chest, his groin. His head dropped back onto Dom's shoulder.

Dom swiftly moved the hand gripping Billy's cock up and down, his thumb toying with the ridge of flesh. His arm was clamped against Billy's ribs. Reached out with his tongue and flicked Billy's earlobe, took it between his lips and sucked, then lightly bit the softsweet skin. Billy's cock jumped in his hand. Dom thumbed the tip, tearing a groan from deep in Billy's chest.

"Bill," he whispered from just behind Billy's ear, "You feel so good. Better than I imagined. Better than I imagined when thoughts of you made me come."

Billy bucked hard, driving himself into Dom's tight hand. "Oh--oh God…"

"Hotter, too. Hotter than I was when I came, my hand wrapped around myself and your name on my lips."

"Dom--fuck--harder, Dom, pleaseharderfaster--"

Dom moved faster, gripped him tighter, ran his thumb across the hard velvet skin. Dipped his head to lick Billy's neck. Rubbed the pad of his forefinger across Billy's nipple. "Tell me," he murmured, breath hot on Billy's skin.

"Dom. Dom," he choked out. Tried for more, but was too far gone. Settled for gasping loudly and reaching around to grab what he could reach of Dom's arse with his left hand. Made sure every inch of his body possible was in contact with Dom. "Dom--need--"

"Yes, you need, don't you Bill?" Dom growled. Slouched back against the edge of the sofa, pulled Billy down with him. Pressed his hips up, crushing his half-hard cock against Billy's arse. Billy could feel heat through the cotton of Dom's boxers, could feel his length pushing against his crack. He sobbed a breath.

"Billy--come for me," Dom spoke roughly, into his skin.

He came. Hard.

Dom worked him as he moaned, thrust, scrabbled for purchase against the floor in order to arch his hips even higher. Dom felt Billy's come running down his knuckles, and bit the corded neck in front of him as Billy tightened the arm around Dom's head.

"Oh God--God yes yes yesyesyesbloodyhellDom--"

Dom used the hand on Billy's chest to hold him tight, trapping supporting controlling his shuddering and quaking.

"God, Dom--" Billy groaned as he gave one last, fierce thrust into Dom's fist, then slumped back to lay bonelessly on him, juddering.

"That was hot, Bill," Dom murmured, giving Billy's skin a long slow lick. He felt sated himself, even though watching Billy peak and go over had aroused him all over again.

"Fucking hell," Billy mumbled. "I think I pulled something."

Dom laughed quietly. After allowing Billy to catch his breath, he released Billy's cock and languidly lifted his sticky hand to his mouth. Was watched with half-masted green eyes as he licked at the residue. He cocked his head to the side, thinking. Billy raised one eyebrow and waited. Finally Dom gave Billy a slow, sex-curved smile and said, "Brazil nuts. And macadamias. Brazamias?"

Billy reached up, took Dom's hand, and guided it to his lips. Took Dom's forefinger into his mouth and sucked it clean. Dom's eyes narrowed, darkened, as he watched Billy's cheeks hollow slightly. It reminded him of the many talents of that pointy tongue. Billy wetly released him. Said, "Macazil."

"No thanks. Sounds like an ointment."

Billy hooted. "Brazamia, then."

Dom pushed him to a sitting position, untangling their limbs. He got to his feet, stretched. "Gonna clean up. Need anything?"

"Liquor?" Billy asked hopefully.

"Not going to happen, you git. Anything else?"

He flopped back to rest his head on the seat of the sofa. "My youth back? You've done me in."

"Bollocks. You spent the day surfing, it's late, and you're drugged out. I'm amazed you could get it up at all."

"So am I, actually," Billy admitted, yawning. "It's a…whadyacallit. Thingmie. Testament. To your powers of…you know. Turning-me-on-ness."

Dom grinned. "Eloquent bastard, aren't you?"

"Piss off. Glass of water?"

"Coming up."

After washing up in the bathroom, Dom went to the kitchen for Billy's water, only to find him already seated at the table, peering at the label on the vial of Demerol.

Billy frowned. "Can I take more?"

Dom glanced at the clock on the wall. "If you need to, yes. Do you need to?"

"I don't know. Should I?"

Dom got a bottle of water from the fridge, poured some into a glass. Set it in front of Billy. Asked, "Does your hand hurt, Bill?"

"Yes."

"Then take them," he said gently. "It'll make you more comfortable for sleeping."

Billy hesitated, but finally said, "All right. But just so I don't have to wake you up in the middle of the night to ask you to open this." He handed the plastic bottle to Dom, who took it with a smile, opened the childproof cap, and handed two pills back to Billy. "You _are_ staying, right?"

Dom nodded. "I don't trust you in your current state of mind not to get up at three in the morning and burn the place down trying to make waffles."

"Waffles?"

Dom shrugged. "French toast?"

"Mmmm….French toast…."

"Anyway, yes, I'm staying."

Billy wasn't listening anymore. "French toast. No cinnamon, hate cinnamon. With bacon. And orange juice."

Dom smiled. He tapped the top of Billy's head with one light finger, waited until he had the other man's attention. "You don't have orange juice. Or bacon. And I'm doubtful on the bread, for that matter."

"Bugger."

"Billy, it's late. Go to bed."

He looked up at Dom. "Are you coming?"

"I'll stay on the sofa."

Billy sat back, crossed his arms. "No, you bloody well won't."

"Why not? What's the problem?"

"I just gave you a--the--sucked you off. Best of your life. You _talked_ me into coming. And you're shy about sharing the fucking bed?"

Dom looked at his feet, smiling slightly. "When have you ever known me to be shy? You'll sleep better on your own. What if I roll on your hand?"

Billy got to his feet, walked over to Dom. Walked into Dom. "First time for everything. You won't roll on my hand. Sofa'll kill your back. Bed."

"My back will be fine, it's comfortable. Sofa, Bill." He rubbed a hand up and down Billy's spine.

"Demerol talking, but after those fucking broomsticks, I'll sleep better with you beside me. Bed. Please?" He propped his chin on Dom's shoulder, loosely laced his arms around Dom's waist.

Dom sighed. Gave in. "All right. Bed."

Contentedly, Billy said, "Good."

 

 

They slept in their shorts. Billy's bed was large enough that his restless twitching didn't wake Dom, who was snoring on the other side, the blankets twined around his legs.

Billy's shouting, however, _did_ wake Dom. Twice. Once around two-thirty and again around four, Billy bellowed surreal, mixed-word, and to Dom rather disturbing, warnings. The first time, Dom snapped awake, jumped a mile, expecting to find someone attacking them in their sleep _à la_ the Black Riders in Bree. Heart pounding, he realized that was exactly what Billy was dreaming about.

"NO!" Billy roared, fists clenched. Or rather, right hand trying to clench, and failing, which seemed to frustrate him as he waved it about. "Leave him! Under pillow--under! Merry, no--dogs under the bed, can't you leave him not-Clive get the pillow it's not yours--Merry! Merry!"

Dom quickly reached over, seized Billy's arm, gave it a shake. "Billy--Bill, wake up!" he said urgently. There was a note of pure terror in Billy's voice that clutched at the breath, made Dom want to hold him tightly, bathe him in warmth. No more fucking Demerol, ever. "Billy!" he said louder. He rolled until he was laying on his stomach right next to Billy, wrapped an arm around him, restrained him. Billy's shouting trailed off in confusion.

"No Merry! Stop don't no leave him alone…" His eyes remained closed, and he was panting heavily.

"Ssh, Bill, it's okay," Dom said softly. "It's all right."

"Merry?" he asked shakily.

"Yes. Yeah, Pip. You're all right."

"Merry," he whimpered, sounding so like Pippin it made Dom's chest constrict. "Merry."

"Ssh, Pip."

Billy turned, buried his face in Dom's neck. "Not-Clive, Merry."

'Merry' and 'Pippin', while waiting for a call to set one day in Bree, had foolishly named the Black Riders. While tremendously funny at the time to give them names like Hal, Dickie, and Clive (Sally the Witch-King had just about given them fits), it backfired when they started to snicker at the imposing costumes. Terror became harder to summon. So they had to invent new Black Riders, ultra-Black Riders. Not-Hal, not-Dickie, and most fearsome of all, not-Clive. Not-Clive left them sweating through their scenes, panic-stricken. It worked perfectly.

"Oh, Pip… It's all right, I won't let him hurt you."

"Not me, you," he mumbled.

"Shh." Dom hugged Billy to his chest, held him until deep, even breathing told him he was asleep again.

 

 

The second time Billy's shouting woke Dom, there was less terror in Billy's voice, but it still made Dom uneasy.

"Don't! No--get off the plane for the house--I can't, I can't! No no no no leggo of--Orli don't you fucking do this to me no don't tell Dom I can't!" Billy started thrashing, nearly clouted Dom right in the ear.

Dom realized with a start it was a little cruel to leave Billy in his dream, no matter how much he wanted to know what Orli wasn't supposed to tell him. Was lying closer to him than last time, so he was able to simply reach out and caress Billy's face with the back of his hand.

"Don'ttouchmeDomhelpgettheplane!" Billy cried.

Dom jerked his hand away. _Don't touch me Dom help_? Damn him for not dreaming with proper punctuation, anyway. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He sat up, shook Billy's arm none too gently. "Bill, wake up. Wake up, dammit!"

Billy jolted, then lay still.

"Bill? You awake now?"

"Yeah. Why? Still dark." His voice was blurred with sleep.

"You were fucking dreaming again. What were you dreaming about?"

Billy yawned widely enough to make his eyes tear up. "Orli. Stupid plane taking me. Go to sleep, Dom." He rolled over and was out again almost immediately.

"I'd love to," Dom muttered. Lay down huffily. Laid awake, annoyed with Billy's dreaming brain and his own restless thoughts. He finally fell asleep again near dawn.

 

 

Billy woke up slowly. It took him a full disoriented minute to figure out why he was awake but still heard snoring. Ah, right--Dom. But why was he here--and in the bed? A dull, throbbing ache in his right hand brought most of the previous day seeping back into consciousness. Some bits were a little hazy, granted, but what do you expect, as drugged up--Billy's eyes opened wide as he suddenly remembered what he and Dom had done. On his sofa. And on the floor. He swallowed. Bloody hell. He sat up on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake Dom. Ran his left hand through his hair, spiking it up roughly. And he'd told Dom, dammit--told him he'd been watching him, trying to attract him for months. Oh please God don't let there be anything from last night more humiliating than that. Not that Dom had tried to embarrass him, of course he wouldn't. Wait a minute--Billy got up, padded on bare feet out to the living room, stared at the sofa. Willed his fuzzy brain to cough up the details. Hadn't Dom said--while he was--something about a few months too? He did. He bloody well did! A slow smile tilted Billy's mouth. Maybe things weren't so bad after all. God bless Demerol and its ability to reduce his Scottish reserve to nil. Demerol was his friend.

And now Dom was more. The thought was a little scary, a little breath-stealing, a little hard-on producing. What if Dom awoke with regrets? What if things didn't work out? Still a lot of filming time left to stagger through. What if--Billy stopped himself. Surefire way to sink it before it could swim. Just--let it be, Boyd. No pressure. The possible rewards were worth a great deal of risk.

He wandered into the kitchen, made coffee. Took some Paracetamol. Checked what was in the fridge for breakfast. Not much. Why was he craving French toast? He didn't even like it that much. Ah well, he was out of bread anyway.

"Let me guess," said a gravelly voice behind him. "No bread for French toast?"

Billy turned to see Dom propped up against the doorjamb, red eyes half open and hair every which way. "How'd you know?" He paused, gently said, "You look like shite. Why don't you go back to bed?"

"Checking on you. Finger?"

Billy made a face, held up his hand. "It's sore, but I'll live."

"Need Demerol?" Dom rubbed a hand over his scruffy face.

"No, I need my brain more. Paracetamol will do. Go on. Get."

"Nah, 'm up now. Coffee?"

"Dom--"

"Coffee, Bill."

Billy looked at him. Turned, poured a large mug of coffee. Put it on the table by the sugar bowl, and got the cream from the fridge. Handed it to Dom as he passed to sit at the table, his back to Billy, who remained leaning against the counter. Waited, but when Dom said nothing, finally asked, "So just how fucked up was I yesterday, anyway?"

Dom's shoulders tensed as he stirred his coffee.

Billy quickly added, "I mean, I remember almost everything, but it all seemed…perfectly normal to me. It made sense to me that there could be a blue dog, or that it was a good idea to climb up on a chair."

"You were…out there," Dom said. Explaining nothing.

Billy sighed. "You're going to make me ask, aren't you?"

"Ask what?" His voice gave nothing away. Which in itself said something, Billy just wasn't sure what.

"I can't just casually ignore it. Or, God forbid, forget. I thought it was a good idea, Dom. Did you?" Billy waited, rubbing the fingertips of his left hand lightly over the metal of the splint on his right. He waited for what seemed an unreasonably long time. "Dammit, Dom--"

"Do you still?" His voice was low.

"Do I still what?"

"Think it was a good idea. This morning, without the Demerol, is it still such a great idea?"

There was something in Dom's voice that pulled Billy's heart out of his throat and put it back where it was supposed to be. "The best. As far as I'm concerned, it's the best bloody idea I've ever had, Dom."

Dom slowly turned, his eyes tracking along the floor. Not until he was fully facing Billy did he raise his eyes. Searched Billy's. Read his truth there.

"Yeah, I guess it wasn't a bad one," he whispered shakily. "As your ideas go."

Billy smiled, walked over. Reached for Dom's head and clasped him tightly to his chest. Dom wrapped his arms around Billy's waist, enfolding him in warmth.

Several minutes later, Billy muttered, still smiling, "Took you long enough, gobshite."

"Whatever, you git. I'd still like to know when the hell you offered."

"I never stopped." Billy let Dom's head go. Suddenly swung a leg over and sat on his lap. Took Dom's face between his hands, nudged the scruffy cheek with his nose, and then kissed him.

Dom enjoyed the flutter in the pit of his stomach. Closed his eyes, kissed Billy back. He ran his hands lightly over Billy's bare back, let his hands rove down, let them come to rest cupping Billy's arse.

Billy opened his mouth, his tongue alerting Dom to do the same. Explored Dom: swept his teeth, teased the roof of his mouth, found the sensitive spot under his tongue. Let Dom do the same to him. Billy rocked forward slightly on his hips, their erections barely grazing through the cotton of their shorts. Dom moaned into his mouth.

Billy pulled his lips away. "Dom?"

Dom started kissing along Billy's jaw, giving him little nips with his teeth. "Mmm?"

"Will you help me with the shower?"

Dom smiled against Billy's skin. "I guess I probably should, yeah?"

"It might be a good idea." Billy tilted his head back and to the side, eyes still closed.

Dom obliged. Kissed Billy's throat, sucking and nibbling. "I'd hate for you to drown, or anything."

"Yeah. That might be bad."

"Yeah. And you need help with anything, you just ask. That's what I'm here for."

"Anything?"

Dom murmured into his ear. "Anything."

 


End file.
